The Rudolf Steiner Archive

8. The Super-Sensory Human Being I

The Human and Animal Worlds: Their Origin and Development as Presented in the Light of Spiritual Science

[ 1 ] In the three lectures this week, I would like to discuss the findings of research in the humanities concerning human beings in particular—the findings of the research that has formed the basis of the lectures I have given here so far this winter. In today’s lecture, I would like to lay the groundwork so that next time we can focus our attention on the supersensible human being, and in the third lecture, address the two most important questions relating to the general mystery of humanity: the question of human free will and the question of the immortality of the soul.

[ 2 ] With regard to what is to be discussed today, I find myself in a somewhat difficult position, first of all because the content of today’s lecture in particular will bring into focus something to which I have frequently drawn attention in the course of these discussions: that while the findings of the spiritual science research referred to here are indeed fully in harmony with all the magnificent achievements that natural science has produced over the past centuries and up to the present, on the other hand, what can be said from the perspective of spiritual science—which is precisely in harmony with the findings of natural science— stands in complete contrast to what natural scientists—or those who interpret scientific findings today—themselves say about human beings and their nature in light of these scientific facts. On the one hand, complete harmony with the facts; on the other, a veritable contradiction on every front with those who are accustomed to speaking about these facts today—that is one practical difficulty. The other is that I have only one evening’s lecture at my disposal, and that what is to be discussed today would have to be the subject of at least thirty lectures if it were to be treated in detail. Thus, I will only be able to present the findings in outline form and may, as a result, be easily misunderstood in many respects. However, my intention today is not so much to convey details; rather, it is my desire to evoke a sense of the direction that spiritual scientific thinking must take if it is to engage, particularly with regard to the question of human existence, with the current views of the natural sciences.

[ 3 ] Today, scientific views have, in a very special way, led every human soul to ask about the relationship between human beings and the animal world, and about everything that arises from this relationship for our understanding of human existence itself. The nature of the views that have emerged on this question in recent times has also brought this into focus: the human being in terms of its organization, and the animal in terms of its organization. What has had a particularly strong suggestive effect with regard to this question—and one may say this with some justification, for I am not speaking in opposition to the natural sciences—is the form that the purely scientific theory of evolution has taken in recent times. But, fundamentally, people have misconceptions about the scope and true nature of this theory of evolution, precisely because they always view the issue in too simplistic, I would say, too trivial a manner. People thus have the impression that “strictly scientific research” in recent times has established the kinship between humans and animals, the evolution of humans from the animal kingdom, and, within the animal kingdom itself, the evolution from less perfect to more perfect beings.

[ 4 ] Now, there is one thing that is not correct about these ideas, namely, the belief that the view—that human beings, in terms of their physical organization, are connected to the animal kingdom—is entirely new. It is by no means new. Even setting aside the fact that traces of it—or rather, more than just traces—can already be found in ancient Greek science, and, in essence, even among the Church Fathers, there is nevertheless something significant in the fact that, for example, even Goethe, as a very young man, had to struggle with certain fanciful theories of evolution that were gaining traction precisely during his time. And anyone familiar with Goethe’s own autobiography knows how he rebelled against the idea that if one were only to create certain different living conditions, some animals could transform into others—or even into human beings. Goethe rebelled against this, even though both he and Herder were grounded in the idea that one organism arises from another, and even though they were adherents of the “theory of evolution.” It is therefore important to recognize that it is not the theory of evolution as such that is new, but that, fundamentally, an older view has in recent times become imbued with certain strongly materialistic notions—notions that otherwise also draw a parallel between human and animal organization. Rather, the nature of the interpretation—the entire way of thinking about things—is actually the essential element that has emerged in recent times. If one bears this in mind, it will not be so difficult to make the transition to those concepts of evolution that must be considered here today.

[ 5 ] Anyone today who thinks they stand on the firm ground of science by adhering to a certain materialistic school of thought, and believes they should characterize this theory of evolution, usually begins by saying: The modern, scientific view of the emergence of humankind from the rest of the animal kingdom stands in stark contrast to the superstitious, prejudiced approach that still somehow ties in with the Mosaic account of creation. — Now, it is not my task today to discuss the Mosaic account of creation. I believe that, as it stands, it has often led to misunderstandings about what underlies it, and that it actually represents an ancient wisdom of humanity. Just as an aside. What is important to consider today is that, on one particularly significant point, the scientific theory of evolution is in complete harmony with the — whether correctly or incorrectly understood — Mosaic creation story; namely, that in the course of the evolution of living beings, human beings emerged, so to speak, as the most perfect animal or whatever one might call it, after the other animals had already preceded them in their evolution; that they emerged, so to speak, as human beings following the animals. This is what the modern scientific worldview has in common with the Mosaic creation story.

[ 6 ] This is precisely what today’s perspective must address in particular. And so one might say: The novelty of this history of the development of the spiritual sciences will be evident in the fact that it must, in a sense, break precisely with what, from every angle—both scientific and otherwise—presents itself today as a completely certain conclusion. Admittedly, some of the ideas that can arise only on the foundation of the spiritual science referred to here are necessary if an understanding is to develop for such matters as are being discussed today. It is necessary, for example, to gain some clarity regarding theoretical disputes such as those that are commonplace, but which must and will disappear precisely as spiritual science becomes more deeply rooted in people’s minds.

[ 7 ] Today, one still generally encounters various worldviews that appear to contradict one another. On the one hand, there are those who interpret the world and its phenomena from a materialistic perspective. They are called “materialists.” On the other side are the “spiritualists”—not “spiritists,” but “spiritualists” in the positive sense of German philosophy. The former hold the view that only the material, the physical, is the foundation of all being and becoming, and that the spiritual emerges, so to speak, as a result of the physical and its processes. The spiritualists, on the other hand, oppose such a view in the strictest sense and emphasize above all that, in particular, the “spirit” as such can be observed in human beings, and that any view of the world must proceed from the “spirit.” The spiritual science referred to here is entirely indifferent to whether one starts from materialism or spiritualism. The only thing this spiritual science demands—of itself and of others—is that one think things through to their conclusion, that the inner content of thought and research be truly thought through to the end. Let us suppose that someone, due to a particular disposition, becomes a materialist: If he truly takes the material world and its phenomena into account and pursues his inquiry to its logical conclusion, he will inevitably arrive at the spirit through the material. And if someone is a spiritualist and does not delve into the spirit purely theoretically, but grasps it in its reality in such a way that, in this grasping of the spirit, they are also able to comprehend the manifestations of the spirit in the material world and to look into the mysteries in which the spirit works within matter, then the spiritualist comes to understand the fundamental principles and ramifications of material processes.

[ 8 ] The starting point for the true researcher in the humanities is quite different. It is a matter of having the inner courage to truly think things through to the end. But thinking things through to their conclusion requires, first, a certain penetrating power that seeks to think things through to the end, and second, an ability to truly take in the phenomena before one’s eyes. With regard to the latter, one can indeed make remarkable discoveries. Who actually believes today that they are more grounded in reality? This is emphasized at every opportunity.

[ 9 ] I have already drawn attention on several occasions to what actually happened in the 1860s, but it is always interesting to point out this fact once again. Eduard von Hartmann’s philosophy—I do not intend to advocate for it everywhere, but it was a brilliant attempt to preserve the spiritual in the face of the onslaught of materialistic research—sought, beginning in the late 1860s, to overcome the materialistic interpretations of scientific research. When The Philosophy of the Unconscious was published, natural scientists were in agreement: “This is a thoroughly amateurish philosopher who rambles on about nature yet actually knows nothing proper about it.” Counter-writings were published against the Philosophy of the Unconscious, intended to demonstrate the amateurish and layman-like manner in which Darwinian research findings were treated therein. Among these counter-essays was one by an anonymous author titled The Unconscious from the standpoint of the Theory of Descent and Darwinism. The author of this essay had made it his mission to take on “this amateur opponent of Darwinism” in particular. Haeckel, Oscar Schmidt, and others all commented on this pamphlet along these lines: It’s a pity that this anonymous author did not reveal his name; let him come forward, and we will regard him as one of our own; for no one could set this scientific dilettante Hartmann straight better than this anonymous author! — And they also helped ensure that the pamphlet quickly sold out. A second edition was published, this time with the author’s name: it was Eduard von Hartmann! — That was a necessary lesson, and one from which all those who believe that anyone who does not speak about scientific findings exactly like a scientist must necessarily be a dilettante should take heed.

[ 10 ] Now, those members of the audience who were present at my earlier lectures know that I have highlighted a recent work as particularly valuable, namely The Development of Organisms by Oscar Hertwig. I consider this book to be particularly excellent and particularly characteristic of our time for the following reason: Oscar Hertwig, a student of Ernst Haeckel, emerged as a young man from the more or less materialistic implications of Darwinian research findings.

[ 11 ] In the book The Development of Organisms, Oscar Hertwig—in a sort of Penelope problem—has, as it were, unraveled everything that people believed could be presented as the specific achievements of Darwinian research. “The Development of Organisms” is thus an excellent book grounded in modern science.

[ 12 ] Now a work by the same Oscar Hertwig has been published that deals more with other issues; it is titled: “Against Technical, Social, and Political Darwinism.” Now I find myself in a peculiar situation: I will always consider Hertwig’s Das Werden der Organismen to be one of the best books ever written on these subjects, and I will have to regard Hertwig’s latest book as one of the most thoughtless, most preposterous products of modern thought. It demonstrates nothing other than how helpless the modern naturalist becomes when he is required to move from his familiar ground into a different field. This fact is very instructive, and one finds oneself, I would say, in a somewhat tragic conflict when one must, on the one hand, admire and, on the other, radically condemn. Now, I do not wish to discuss this latest work by Hertwig in general or in detail; I would just like to mention one thing:

[ 13 ] I just said a moment ago: Every natural scientist will emphasize the importance of remaining as grounded in “facts” as possible. Among the countless passages in this absurd book by Hertwig, you will find one that reads something like this: One must admire how modern natural science was pioneered by the research of Newton, Copernicus, and Kepler on celestial phenomena. It has grown great by becoming accustomed to viewing things in physics, chemistry, and biology exactly as Copernicus, Kepler, and Newton viewed celestial phenomena. Now I ask you: The examination of the facts that take place immediately around us—the facts that are plain for everyone to see—is to be conducted according to the model of that field where the facts lie as far removed from us as possible! I am convinced that thousands of readers will gloss over such an incredible contradiction. It is precisely in such a contradiction that it becomes evident how impossible it is for a great, significant researcher to think so deeply that this research can also be elevated to the spiritual realm.

[ 14 ] It is essentially due to these and similar factors that this entire modern theory of evolution—as magnificent and profound as it is in its essence— is, at its core, based on concepts that are far too simplistic and far too abstract—concepts that are entirely unsuited to grasping the actual facts, particularly those facts concerning the development of nature that are relevant to solving the great mystery of humanity itself.

[ 15 ] This enigma of humanity must, from the outset, be characterized in such a way that human beings, by virtue of their entire position in the world, seem called upon—at first—not to know what they represent in the world or how they stand within it, but rather to draw from the depths of their being that which can enlighten them about what they actually are. This is, in fact, the very purpose of spiritual scientific research: to bring up from the depths of the human spirit itself that which otherwise slumbers there; it is brought up—let us call it that—through soul exercises, which ordinary consciousness does not employ at all, and that only through this does the human being make himself capable of “contemplative consciousness.” And only when what I have called “contemplative consciousness” in my book The Riddle of Man has been drawn up from the depths of the human soul—where the human being then truly has to do with what can be called “spiritual eyes” and “spiritual ears”—in order to have a spiritual world around them, just as the physical eyes otherwise have the physical world around them—only then can one even begin to tackle the great enigmatic questions.

[ 16 ] Today’s remarks are intended to reaffirm this: In truth, human beings sleep through their very nature. A good portion of these lectures was meant to show that human beings sleep through part of their nature and carry this state of sleep over into their waking state as well. Deep within the depths of their being, something is constantly asleep, and their being must first be brought to awakening. Just as we need in ordinary daily life what sleep provides, so too, for ordinary knowledge—if it is to be fruitful and provide insight into that which it is directed toward—we need that which human beings are actually constantly neglecting within their being. I said that we must first take the facts around us into account. It is particularly important to place oneself in a position to contemplate, from the perspective of the observing consciousness, the difference between human beings and animals; for without being able to truly perceive this difference, one cannot arrive at any understanding of the development and origin of human beings and animals. Now I would like to outline, in broad strokes, what can be said from the perspective of spiritual science about the difference between humans and animals.

[ 17 ] To the casual, superficial observer, the animal kingdom presents itself in a wide variety of forms. Animals come in many different forms. Animals are therefore classified into “genera” and “species.” You know that there have been numerous philosophers who held the view that what we call “genus” or “species” in animals—that is, “wolf,” “lion,” “tiger,” and so on—are actually just collective names. What one actually encounters in reality is always the “substance,” which, through its own configuration, takes on the most diverse forms; the rest are merely names. In contrast, there is no alternative but to take a close look at what is actually present, for the sake of unbiased observation. I am always reminded of an image that my old friend, Professor Vincenz Knauer, used to employ whenever these matters were discussed. He said: Those people who claim that it is only names that are expressed in these genera and species, but that, fundamentally speaking, it is the same substance everywhere—which does not change whether it is in a tiger or a wolf—should really consider whether it is truly the same substance that is in a lamb and in a wolf. It cannot be denied, of course: from a physical standpoint, it is the same substance. But one should try confining a wolf so that, for a long time, it has nothing else to eat but lambs, and then see whether, as a result, it has taken on any of the nature of a lamb. It then becomes quite clear that what constitutes the “wolf”—what determines its configuration—is not merely a “name,” but something that frames the material in this particular configuration.

[ 18 ] What, exactly, shapes and defines these different animal species in their own way? I must admit, I am very reluctant to touch on purely personal matters, but since I can only sketch out an outline, it is necessary for me to make such a personal remark. For about thirty years, I have been examining everything that recent research in physiology has produced with regard to these questions and comparing it with what research in the humanities has to say. It would indeed be very appealing to give a series of lectures demonstrating what I am now presenting with regard to its findings. What takes shape in the most diverse animal forms—what one encounters in these various animal forms—is intimately connected with what one might call the equilibrium relationships of the animal’s structure. Study this, however, as thoroughly as possible, for a superficial study in this field leads one astray from the truth—the structure of an animal, not merely as it presents itself to the external eye, but study the structure of an animal in terms of its balance of forces: how differently an animal relates to gravity and to overcoming gravity when its hind legs are shaped differently from its front legs; how differently an animal behaves depending on whether it has hooves or claws, and so on. Study how the animal, through its balance, positions itself within the conditions given to it, and you will discover the most profound connection between the earthly conditions of balance and the way the animal is situated within these conditions. And it is precisely these conditions of balance that are radically different in human beings than in the animal kingdom. Human beings stand apart from the conditions of balance into which animals are situated in that, essentially, the line running through the spinal cord is parallel to the Earth’s surface in animals, whereas in human beings it is essentially perpendicular to the Earth. I do not mean the purely external position here, for of course human beings are also parallel to the Earth’s surface when they sleep. The human organism as such is structured in such a way that the Earth’s line of gravity coincides with the line of the spinal cord. In animals, the spinal cord runs parallel to the Earth’s surface. Consequently, in a certain sense, the line of the center of gravity passing through the human head coincides with the line of the center of gravity of the rest of the organism. The human head rests on the line of the center of gravity of the torso; in animals, it hangs below it.

[ 19 ] As a result, human beings are placed in a completely different state of equilibrium with respect to the Earth than animals; they are placed in a state of equilibrium that they actually establish for themselves only during the course of their lives, for they are born into a state of equilibrium similar to that of animals. By rising above the states of equilibrium imposed on animals, humans rise above all the forces underlying the various genera and species, and they essentially become a “genus,” a “species.” He frees himself precisely from what constitutes the basis of the manifold forms found in other animal beings; he creates his own unified form by freeing himself from this determining principle through his upright posture. And everything that finds expression in human language and human thought is intimately connected with these equilibrium relationships. Certainly, it was precisely materialist research in the second half of the nineteenth century that drew attention to this; yet it was unable to fully capitalize on this fact. For anyone who delves into the subtle configuration of the material world will be able to see that the substance of external nature is taken up by a human being in a completely different way and directed into entirely different directions than is the case with all others. This is what sets human beings apart from the entire rest of the animal kingdom. Connected to this is the fact that the entire human equilibrium is one that is established entirely within the organism itself, whereas that of the animal is established in relation to the world. Take just the most basic example: the animal stands on all fours, whereas humans are bound not to an equilibrium determined from the outside, but to one that is established within their own organism.

[ 20 ] There is something very specific associated with this other state of equilibrium. Namely, human beings have—and anyone who is capable of observation, so that the spiritual truly falls within their field of observation, can observe it—a dull, dreamlike feeling of being in this state of equilibrium, a feeling that only dimly surfaces into ordinary daily consciousness. This feeling actually rises into ordinary consciousness only with the haziness of a dream, sometimes only with the haziness of sleep consciousness. And as what does this sensation of resting upon one’s own physical foundation live in ordinary consciousness? This sensation is identical with the sense of self, with the feeling of “I.” What we will come to know in the next lecture as the human “spirit,” which first reveals itself in the “I,” manifests itself in the human organism initially not in anything else, but in these conditions of equilibrium, which are not present in animals. I said that the more recent evolutionary theory in natural history has something suggestive about it, so that one might believe that anything said against it seems foolish and amateurish. There is something fascinating about the claim that human beings have exactly as many bones and muscles and so on as animals—how, then, could they be a different kind of being? But the “I” does not reside at all in what humans have in common with animals. The “I” does not reside in the bones and muscles at all, nor does it intervene there; rather, it first manifests itself in feeling, and this feeling rests in these balances.

[ 21 ] But there is something else as well. The animal kingdom is diverse in its form. This is expressed in its many forms. Does this diversity of form—which is, in fact, predetermined by external factors, such as the gravitational and other force relationships of the Earth—have no significance at all for human beings? Because human beings, through their different equilibrium, break free from all the equilibrium conditions into which animals are determined to fit, they have their own form, which appears as a synthesis of animal forms. Yet everything that is at work in the forms of animals nevertheless finds its fulfillment in him. It is within him, but it is spirit. What is spread out as sensory phenomena across the most diverse animal forms is spiritual in human beings. What is it within him?

[ 22 ] Once again, for those who have mastered the method of observation described in the book How to Attain Knowledge of the Higher Worlds, the observation is this: the very same thing that gives the animal its external sensory form lives within the human being, but as a supersensory, dynamic element. It lives in human thought. What enables us to think about things is within us—in a supersensible way—exactly the same as what, out in the animal world, constitutes the manifold species and genera of animals. By breaking away from the diversity of the animal kingdom and, in relation to heaviness, giving itself a form independent of the animal realm—which is the dwelling place of the “I”—human beings invisibly appropriate what is visible in the animal world. This lives within their thinking. In the animal world, what is poured out within us as we survey the world through thought is poured out in the most manifold forms. We track what we can observe and form thoughts about it. I am, of course, aware of all the objections that can be raised against this. I am also aware of the objection: Can you really look into the animals? Might not the animal also possess a kind of thinking like that of humans? But anyone who can make Goethe’s principle their own—that phenomena are the true teachings, provided they can be observed correctly—knows that what is revealed in the phenomena is also decisive for the observation itself. This is one of the most essential characteristics: what is sensually poured out over the manifold forms of animals lives supersensually within the human being. By freeing his form from the form-shaping principles of the animals, he is able to take this into his supersensible realm. Animals are “more advanced” in terms of their sensory form than human beings. Human beings have a malleable form. Animals are built in harmony with the entire structure of the Earth. With human beings, it is different; in them, this is incorporated into their own form. Through this, they are able to grasp spiritually that which is expressed externally in the animal structure in a form perceptible to the senses.

[ 23 ] Even on this point alone, one can already see what is actually wrong with the newer theory of evolution. Let me say this: it is precisely because I have become a staunch supporter of this modern theory of evolution—but have tried to follow it through to its logical conclusion—that I have come to identify its flaw. It presents everything in a linear fashion, as it were: imperfect animals, then more perfect ones, and still more perfect ones, all the way up to humans. But that is not how things are. Anyone who examines the phenomena independently will realize that this purely ascending evolution—which proceeds only from the imperfect to the perfect—is actually one-sided; for it lacks an essential element that, while occasionally considered in modern times, has not been thoroughly investigated or applied to specific cases. We are dealing with a continuous upward development and a continuous regression. Regression would mean, roughly speaking, what is of such great importance for understanding human beings, and here, too, I advise you once again—but without prejudice—to consider specifically physiological aspects.

[ 24 ] If one stops at these general, trivial notions of evolution, one is led to believe that humans are simply the most perfect of all animals, and that even their individual organs—even if one concedes that there are instances of regression here and there—are essentially in a state of upward development. That is not the case. Thousands of facts could be cited in this regard. I will mention just one. Study the human eye and compare it to the eyes of vertebrates, specifically those of animals at a slightly lower level of development: As you move down the animal kingdom, you will find a more complex internal structure than in humans. In humans, the eye has once again become simpler. I will merely mention that the scleral process and the fan-shaped structure, which are present in the eyes of lower animals, are not found in humans. Evolution has pushed them back again. In humans, the eye is a less perfect organ than in lower animals; it has regressed. The entire human organism, when studied closely, is in a certain respect not only more highly developed than animal organisms but has also regressed; evolution has, so to speak, reversed itself. What has happened here?

[ 25 ] Because certain forces have been eliminated—or, rather, have regressed—human beings have become capable of becoming vessels for the spiritual-soul aspect and of absorbing this spiritual-soul aspect. What I have described so far is essentially nothing other than regression, “devolution,” as opposed to “evolution.” Consider what gives an individual animal the specific form it has, and another animal a different form: this idea determines the animal’s entire organization through and through. Human beings, on the other hand, regress in their organization. It does not go so far as to be determined through and through; it returns to an earlier stage. In this way, human beings can give themselves the state of equilibrium that nature does not provide; in this way, they free themselves from what nature imposes on other beings. The whole human being has remained at an earlier stage of development; this gives rise to what has become the organ of thought in human beings, for, of course, this organ is based on that. What underlies thinking is essentially an organ of thought precisely because it is regressed, because it has not reached the point to which the animal form extends and outwardly expresses itself in form. Human beings regress in form and can live out the form supersensually in thought, just as animals live it out in the external sensory realm.

[ 26 ] There is something else as well. In the case of human beings, we are not dealing merely with evolution, but also with devolution, with regression. And precisely because human beings are undergoing greater regression than animals, they can become bearers of a spiritual-soul aspect at all. Essentially, something else is connected to everything I have discussed so far. Anyone who can truly observe how what—even upon mere observation—must be the organ of imagination, the organ of perception, and the organ of feeling—that is, the forward-facing parts of the animal organism—is expressed in animals will find that what is expressed in form is expressed objectively. They will find that everything located toward the front of the animal’s organism has to do with the life of imagination, the life of perception, and feeling, just as that which is located toward the back has to do with the element of will. The two sides are, of course, connected once again. Because the animal is situated in a state of equilibrium—in a sense, having side by side what the human being has one above the other: the volitional organization on the one hand and the intellectual and instinctual organization on the other—this creates an entirely different relationship in the animal between everything intellectual, everything related to imagination, and everything pertaining to the will. In human beings, the organs of imagination are situated above the organs of the will. This creates an inner connection between the organs of the will and the organs of imagination. Anyone who knows how to observe the life of the soul will see that this human life of imagination is characterized by the fact that the will extends into it. Study the problems of attention, and you will see that the will exerts its power there. And this gives rise to the capacity for abstract thought, which animals cannot possess because their imagination lies alongside the will and not above it. Conversely, the will and the life of imagination work together, so that the will, in turn, is influenced by imagination. Only because the organs of the will belong to the subconscious does the will itself find expression only as in the state of sleep-consciousness. In the state of sleep consciousness, human beings experience the actual process of the will in the same way as the other processes of sleep consciousness. This, too, highlights the unique connection between imagination and volition that is peculiar to human beings: volition illuminates the life of imagination, which in animals is always in a dull, dreamlike state. Likewise, the life of volition in animals is much more intimately connected with the life of imagination; animals feel a much deeper inner connection with their own volition. This, in turn, means that in humans, the free life of feeling relates to the life of imagination and volition in an entirely different way, manifesting itself much more profoundly than in animals. In animals, the emotional life is rooted in their organism; it is, so to speak, merely a formal manifestation of the life of thought. On the other hand, the emotional life in animals is nothing more than inhibited or uninhibited volitional activity, depending on whether they can or cannot achieve something. This is expressed throughout their entire existence. It is precisely through this that they are much more closely connected to the entire external world.

[ 27 ] When we consider this, we can understand something else—though this can only be revealed through careful observation of the human soul life. Spiritual science must proceed differently in many respects from other sciences, which often take things from trivial preconceptions and then reject them because they cannot figure out how to explain them. The spiritual researcher will focus much more on the positive; he will not be content, for example, merely to accept the idea of immortality or the permanence of the soul, but will ask first and foremost: How does a human being come to have the “immortal” within himself as a thought or a feeling? How does the immortal come to play a role in his soul life?

[ 28 ] One can only come to understand this if one is able to extend Goethe’s theory of metamorphosis to such an extent that one can now truly address the question of the extent to which human beings, with regard to their higher nature—which is expressed through their head and cranial organization—are dependent on their lower nature. While we have thus far sought to understand the specific connection between thinking and willing in humans and animals, we must now address what connects humans to animals with regard to something that is intimately linked to the question of development. This is what enters into animal and human life through the two phenomena of conception—I do not mean birth—which is regarded as the first emergence of the human, the union of the male and the female, and of death, on the other hand. Conception and death are bound to certain parts of the organism in both humans and animals; in the case of conception, this is evident from the outset.

[ 29 ] Now it is a matter of recognizing that whatever appears in a particular place in some animal form—and the same is true of plants—is also expressed in other organ systems, albeit in a transformed way. One can focus on this right from the start: how, then, does what is connected with conception and death manifest itself in humans and animals, since we have already identified the one difference that is directly linked to the organism? It turns out, when one truly investigates the phenomena and facts and considers things sensibly, that what constitutes the human and animal head is, in essence, merely a more highly organized, transformed abdomen—as strange as it may sound—just as —remember the lecture that drew on Goethe’s worldview—just as the skull bones are transformed vertebrae. With regard to physical structure, we are dealing with the fact that the individual organ systems are transformations of one another—true transformations—and the activities, the functions of the organ systems, are also transformations of one another. What is “perception”? Perception—it is a matter of objective inquiry, and one must look things straight in the eye—entering into a relationship with the external world through the senses, is a higher—call it, if you will, a more spiritual—form of conception, specified by the various senses, but still a form of conception, of perception. Because the head organism causes certain other organ-forming forces to atrophy and directs them toward the extremities, the organism of conception develops, on the one hand, into the higher sensory organism of the head; and thus the progressive development of the head organism corresponds to the advanced state of conception, which finds expression in sensory perception. Every organic system develops, in a certain sense, the entire organism; the head contains everything that the abdomen contains, and the abdomen contains everything that the head contains. Because the organ-forming forces of the extremities have atrophied, that which belongs to their life finds spiritual expression in the head. The capacity for production, the power of creation, is transformed into the development of thoughts. In the head, the organ of thought is constituted simply by the fact that the conceptual aspect is, so to speak, developed one-sidedly, while the productive aspect is atrophied; yet the productive aspect, precisely because it is atrophied, in turn provides the foundation for thought. For just as animals and humans produce their own kind through their other organism, so does the human being produce himself in a spiritual way: namely, the world of thought. The world of thought is the spiritualized human being, in which what is otherwise manifested in the external world is raised up into the dynamic supersensible realm.

[ 30 ] This idea I have just expressed has far-reaching implications, and it is with deep regret that I can only touch upon such matters in a single lecture. For such matters are the result of decades of intellectual research. But they must be articulated at some point, for it is essential that these ideas reach the public, so that those who have the opportunity to investigate them—in clinics and laboratories—may examine even the smallest details as they must be examined, in accordance with reality.

[ 31 ] Whoever can grasp the full implications of this idea will also discover that something else is inherent in it from a purely organic standpoint. In animal life, one learns to observe two moments: the moment of conception and that of death. They are as far apart as the beginning and the end of animal life. One is connected to progressive development: conception—and everything that can be derived from the study of conception—leads to an understanding of progressive development. But everything that, arising from the conditions of earthly life, determines the death of the animal is connected with regressive development—with devolution. Only by applying the kind of research referred to in these lectures to spiritual life can one gradually come to understand what these two moments—conception and “death”—actually are for the animal being, for the entire animal evolution. The animal is affected by everything connected with conception and the subsequent birth. This evolution, this development, is the highest unfolding of organic life. It is just as in the case of an intensification of organic life—for example, in states of fever—that the ordinary state of consciousness, appropriate to its nature, is suppressed. Thus, the arousal of organic life is accompanied by a suppression of consciousness, a dampening of consciousness; and everything connected with devolution and regressive development is accompanied by a brightening of consciousness—the moment of most intense consciousness. The moment of greatest illumination, of the most intense consciousness—and as a researcher of the spirit, I may say: a moment when the animal element comes very close to the human one; one need only try observing animals as they are dying!—that is the moment when the animal dies. These two moments of the highest obscuration and the highest enlightenment of consciousness—conception and death—are, in the animal, like two points far apart, like the beginning and the end.

[ 32 ] With human beings, it is different. Because the head stands out from the rest of the organism in the manner described, human beings are organized in such a way that they continually experience the interplay of conception and death. This runs through the entirety of human life. We are organized in such a way that, within the brain structure that underlies our thinking in its connection between perception and will, we continually experience—transformed into a spiritual form—with every production of a thought—though as if in a dreamlike slumber or even subconsciously—what is otherwise experienced by animals only once during conception. And on the other hand, because the organism, which has been transformed into the head, has its spiritual organism precisely in the head, a process of dying continually plays into our consciousness. We die at every moment. To put it more precisely: every time we form a thought, the human will is born within that thought, and every time we set our will upon something, the thought dies into the will. This is what Schopenhauer never understood. For him, on the one hand, the will became the true reality; alongside this, thought vanished for him as if into an illusory world, because he did not understand that will and thought belong together just as, for example, the young and the old human being do—in that the will becomes will precisely because thought has died within it, and, on the other hand, the will now experiences its youth within itself precisely because thought has been born within it.

[ 33 ] Human beings continually experience birth and death. In the lecture on space, I described the human configuration to you in terms of its balance. In time, I describe it by drawing your attention to the following: the result of spiritual science is that what in animals can only be experienced at the beginning and end extends throughout the entire life of a human being; in a subtle, dreamlike jumble, there is a continuous, faint experience of conception and death in the human subconscious. Because this lives deep within the human soul, because it surges upward, because the human being is vaguely aware that he carries conception and death within himself and not outside himself—because of this, he has the feeling that his being lives beyond death and birth, encompassing more than what begins with conception and ends with death. The human being carries conception and death within himself. I am expressing this in brief terms. But explore everything that physiology and psychology currently have to offer: you will find confirmation that human beings carry within themselves throughout their lives what is divided into two distinct moments in animals. This gives rise to the idea of immortality within them. As a result, they truly carry the feeling and the thought of immortality within themselves. And only when this is taken into account can one truly grasp the connection between animals and human beings.

[ 34 ] How does the human being appear in the end? More regressed than is the case with animals, and this is precisely what provides the foundation for his spiritual nature. If one examines him thoroughly, one discovers something remarkable: Just as the eye is reduced in form, so, in fact, is everything that appears in the outer form reduced to the spiritual realm in comparison to the animal. Human beings unfold this under the same conditions under which animals unfold their nature and form. The same conditions act upon the animal and upon human beings. They act upon human beings by, as it were, providing them with a “shell.” What I have just described is, in fact, the inner being of the human being. It is transformed and preserved in a flexible form so that the human being can bring about his own equilibrium, so that what takes on a fixed form in the animal is present in the human being in the flexible forms of his thoughts. All of this is contained within him. As a result, he stands before the external world as if enclosed within a shell.

[ 35 ] What can be discovered within the human being can, in fact, only be uncovered by spiritual science. Only spiritual science can penetrate this shell. But what is revealed then? Something similar to what happens with memory. We perceive the external world as it is and process it. But later in life, we bring to light in our memory what we have taken in from the external world. I cannot explain today what the mechanism of memory is based on; but it is, of course, not based on the structures of the body’s periphery, but on those of the body’s interior. If we now delve in a deeper sense into what the shell conceals—just as we delve into ordinary memory, except that ordinary memory unconsciously brings forth what the organism has preserved— if one enters consciously through contemplative consciousness, then one brings forth what, in the depths of human nature, brings about everything I have described today. The shell is brought about by that which determines today’s animal world. How does what lives within the human being differ from this? For the spiritual observer, this becomes a heightened, visualized memory; there he brings forth from within the human being something that truly becomes vivid, something that truly steps before the human power of perception. Just as what the senses have experienced steps before ordinary consciousness, so something steps before the contemplative consciousness when one delves into what lies below. What then emerges is that the period of development which human beings spent alongside the animals—the period of earthly development—was followed by another period for human beings in which there could not yet have been any development of today’s animals. Human beings evolved before the animal kingdom, though naturally in a different form; for they have assumed their present form by being placed within the conditions that the animals have created. But what lies within the “shell” leads, in spiritual contemplation, back to an earlier form of the Earth, to a state that we cannot come to understand through geological conclusions; rather, as we come to understand human beings, we arrive at the realization that human beings are older than the animals, that the animals arose later. As closely related as they are to human beings, they emerged later. For we are returning to a form of the planet when animals did not yet exist. At that time, the planet looked such that, under the influence of its conditions, that which today must be protected by the outer shell—which now stands in opposition to the animal world—was able to form.

[ 36 ] What I have explored today as a thought first takes shape as a spiritual vision for those who see spiritually: One looks back into earlier stages of the Earth’s development. But this is precisely what provides the impulse to view these stages of development as they are, as they must be, so that one can see what one finds when one actually looks.

[ 37 ] But there are other factors at play here as well. Today, in the realm of everyday science, people are quite willing to view phenomena on Earth in the same way as celestial phenomena; but it took some time for this idea to gain acceptance among modern humanity, which is so reluctant to place faith in authority, yet regards contemporary science as an infallible authority. One can conduct an experiment here. If you visit Mulhouse in Alsace, you will find a monument: at the top, a celestial sphere; in front of it, a statue of Johann Heinrich Lambert, a contemporary of Kant, who conceived of something similar—but far more ingenious—than the so-called Kant-Laplace theory. If one were to add a few more of Lambert’s ideas, one would not be far from what the science of the spirit is today. But today we have reached the point where, by decision of the honorable council, a monument is being erected to the man who contributed to the development of modern astronomy. If, however, one goes back a hundred years from the time the monument was erected, one encounters something quite different. Back then, Lambert was a young tailor’s apprentice. A few people had sensed his potential—Kant, for example, called him the “greatest genius of the century”—and his father had submitted petition after petition to the council so that his son might advance in life. They then gave him forty francs, but only on the condition that he clear out and never return. That was a hundred years ago. A hundred years later—the unveiling of the monument! That’s how human development goes—one example among many!

[ 38 ] But, to return to my starting point: Viewed from the outside, the modern scientific way of thinking shares the same idea as the Mosaic account of creation, namely, that humans came into being after the animals. In contrast, modern spiritual science must state, based on its findings, that human beings precede the animals, and that we must go back from our earthly condition to a state in which human beings—unprotected by an outer shell—could only develop what they were at that time by exposing themselves to external conditions. This brings us back to stages of development in our earthly existence that differ from what is known as the Kant-Laplacean theory. Externally, it may well be true that a primordial nebular state formed and condensed. Some time ago, I quoted some significant words by Herman Grimm here: that future generations will have great difficulty reflecting on the eccentricity of the present, which has allowed itself to believe that everything that exists today developed out of such a primordial nebula. It will, however, be a long time before humanity is mature enough intellectually to grasp things in such a way that the mystery of humanity can be viewed as it has been presented today. But then another concept of evolution will emerge, and I do not hesitate to conclude by repeating something I have already pointed out, because I must emphasize again and again from which direction life and movement must be brought into the scientific thinking of our time.

[ 39 ] One can have scientifically very sound ideas, but these can be very far removed from reality. Here I must again and again refer to that lecture by Professor Dewar at the Royal Institution in London, in which he explained what the Earth will be like in 200,000 years. The calculations are entirely correct and beyond doubt, just as one can also correctly calculate the Kant-Laplace theory. Just as with that theory, one can also calculate this final state of the Earth, cooled to minus 200 degrees Celsius. There is no error in this: Our atmosphere will then be condensed like water. Dewar explains in great detail how things on Earth will then have assumed different states of matter, for example. Milk will, of course, be solid. I do not know, to be sure, how it will be produced then; but it will, of course, be solid. Certain objects will be fluorescent; one will be able to coat the walls with egg white and read the newspaper at minus 200 degrees Celsius during the night. There is no error in this at all. The question is simply whether it corresponds to what the researcher in the humanities must be mindful of: whether it is not only “correct,” but whether it corresponds to reality—whether thought knows where to stop, because it no longer stands within reality. By what methods, then, are all these things calculated? By methods such as this one: Someone studies the stomach of a thirty-year-old person, tracks it over three hundred years, and calculates that after three hundred years, this person’s stomach will have developed in such-and-such a way. He can calculate this just as Professor Dewar calculates the final state of the Earth. The only problem is that by then the person will no longer be alive, just as the Earth will no longer exist after 200,000 years. And in the same way, one could calculate what the Earth looked like 300,000 years ago, for the Kant-Laplace theory can be calculated in exactly the same manner; but the Earth did not yet exist at that time. The point is to learn to distinguish between thinking that corresponds to reality and thinking that is merely “correct.”

[ 40 ] That says an extraordinary amount. For the idea I have expounded—that by studying human beings themselves, provided one is able to delve into what constitutes a human being, one arrives at conditions under which the Earth looked entirely different—can only be grasped by immersing oneself in thinking that is grounded in reality. But this also opens up the possibility of conceiving how human beings—who are currently protected from present-day earthly conditions by the outer shell I have described—can overcome the Earth’s final state—which will certainly be different from what Professor Dewar describes— so that humanity may evolve into an era when the Earth will certainly be different, and when today’s animals will no longer exist.

[ 41 ] Today’s discussion focused on the human world and the animal world, examining their origin and evolution as described by the findings of spiritual science. Next time, I will show how human beings themselves return through repeated earthly lives, so that there is every reason to once again accept Lessing’s view of repeated earthly lives. Today I wanted to lay the groundwork for showing how spiritual science arrives at entirely different initial and final states of our Earth’s evolution, and how we must in fact break with the notion that: “First there was the animal world, and it was only on this foundation that humanity could develop.” “Humanity leads the way in its evolution.” Spiritual science will bring these truths to light. You will actually find only a faint glimpse of this relationship—as I have explained in my Riddles of Philosophy—in the work of a very insightful and energetic nineteenth-century researcher, Wilhelm Heinrich Preuß. There you will find the first beginnings of these ideas, but it all remains more or less a mere assertion. These matters can only be truly investigated when one penetrates, with intuitive consciousness, into what human beings are in spiritual and soul terms—a realm of which natural science cannot speak at all. For natural science can only ask: How does the human being, as a spiritual and soul being, relate to the animal organism? But the highest aspect of the spiritual-soul realm does not relate to the animal organism at all; rather, it stands in such a relationship to it that it elevates the organism, creates entirely different balances, so that the experience of conception and death merge into a single moment, so that through the perception of the continuous experience of conception and death, the experience of immortality dimly glows within the human being.

[ 42 ] To sum it all up, I would say that today’s reflection should, once again, highlight—from a certain perspective—the enigma of humanity, which must increasingly occupy people’s minds. Certain people have—and quite rightly so—drawn attention to this: What will actually happen if someone comes along and solves the mystery of humanity—or indeed, the mysteries of the world—once and for all? Then life will surely become terribly lackluster and sluggish; for it is precisely in the striving for a solution that everything which inspires and energizes spiritual life lies. And so there is a certain concern that solving the mysteries of the world might make human life more sluggish. But if you take the spirit from which today’s and the other lectures were delivered, you will see that it is about something entirely different. Here, the solution to the riddle of humanity is not pointed to through a theory or a few sentences, as some believe. Admittedly, when we look out into the worlds of the universe, they become, in terms of space and time, a great cosmic riddle. Where is the answer? Whoever proceeds from the spirit underlying these reflections and seeks the answer there will not find it in a single sentence, nor in a “theory”; rather, they will find it by pointing to the fact that something enigmatic has been condensed within the human being itself from the vastness of space and the flow of time. The universe presents us with the riddle; the answer lies within the human being. But the further one proceeds, the broader and deeper the eras one brings to the surface. By continually examining different eras, one reveals ever-new aspects of the human being. One does not answer with a single sentence, nor with a theory, but with the living human being itself. The depths of space and the expanses of time pose the riddle to humanity, but humanity itself is the answer. We will be able to do nothing else but issue this call to humanity: “Human being, know thyself,” for to the extent that you look deeper and deeper within yourself, you will also find the answer, ever deeper and deeper, to the riddles posed by the vastness of space and the remoteness of time. By pointing not to a single sentence, not to a theory, or to a science, but to life itself—and by saying, “The answer lies in looking within yourself”—the possibility of an answer is opened up, and this to the extent that we send our awakening thoughts and feelings into the future. There will be no complacency in spiritual life, for the mysteries of the world will approach us in ever-new forms, and the answer, too, will reveal itself in ever-new forms. Everything will depend on grasping the question of the world’s mystery correctly—so that one finds not only the answers but also the questions themselves in the right way. Then, however, the answer need not be conceived but must be experienced. And life itself is infinite.